Romeo Kurosaki and Juliet Kuchiki
by Kimu Yukiko
Summary: Two households, both alike in dignity  in fair Karakura, where we lay our scene , from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, came Rukia and Ichigo!
1. Chapter 1

Hello once again!

This is a story based on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. I do not claim to own this story (the plot, characters, etc.), which belong to Shakespeare and Mr. Tite Kubo.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I'll continue with this one, but I've already written Chapter 2, which I may or may not publish at a later time.

All the same, sit back and enjoy! :D

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><p><span>Chapter One- An Unfriendly Encounter<span>

_Two households, both alike in dignity (in fair Karakura, where we lay our scene), from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, came Rukia and Ichigo. Whose misadventures tend to differ from original plot, but hopefully will entertain you all the same. With patient eyes please do read, what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend._

"Them Kurosakis got half the goddamn city all to themselves, why they got to encroach on our territory?" Hisagi growled, fingering his holstered sword frustratedly. "Damn punks!"

"Quiet, Shuuhei, ," Kira warned, looking around wearily as if the stones that lined the road were, at that very moment, watching their every movement. "These walls have ears."

"Stop being such a wimp, you couldn't stand a fight. Ah, here they come," Hisagi gestured towards a pair of night guards sauntering towards them. Their mannerisms were arrogant and cocky, you could tell simply by their attitude; noses high in the air, strutting their way towards them.

"What are you men doing out here at this time of night?" The slightly stocky night guard cocked his head at the group, holding up his oil lamp in a failed attempt to illuminate their faces in the dark.

"Nothin', Sir, just be heading back home." Kira answered hurriedly, pushing Hisagi forward slightly.

"What are you doing?" Hisagi hissed. "These are Kurosaki's men! If we want to start a fight, now's the time!" He gripped the handle of his sword in blind anticipation.

"All right then, move along," The night guard waved them onward boredly, spitting his glowing cigarette onto the muddy turf and grinding it with the heel of his boot.

"You gonna just let 'em get away? Look at these pugnacious bastards! So goddamn self-righteous and superior; lemme teach these fellas something!" Hisagi drew his sword, its gleam still visible in the dark.

"What are you doing?" Kira started to panic. Hisagi wasn't in his right mind, and someone logical had to stop him before things got out of hand. He stood in front of Hisagi and his blatantly drawn weapon. "We're on their turf; we can't be the ones starting a fight! They have the upper hand here. If we want to fight, we have to strategize, not go on some spontaneous suicide mission!" But Hisagi's eyes had gone wild with bloodlust, and Kira almost winced as he braced himself for what was to come.

"Shuuhei, lower your weapon," A low voice came out from behind the group, and a gloved hand applied a small amount of pressure on Hisagi's blade. Hisagi's expression turned from blind rage into shock and all previous determination immediately vanished from his features. He bowed to his waist.

"Please forgive me, my Lady. I meant no disrespect." He mumbled humbly.

"Rise, Shuuhei. I admire your brave spirit, but do not confuse courage with recklessness." The low voice warned quietly.

"Yes, my Lady. It will not happen again." Kira breathed a sigh of relief as Hisagi holstered his weapon. The other nightguard was examining their faces carefully, squinting to catch a better look at their faces.

"Hey, I know you. You're one of Kuchiki's men!" The night guard stepped forward quickly, drawing his blade from his side.

"Damn!" Kira and Hisagi drew their weapons, turning to face the enemy with gritted teeth.

"Wait," The hooded figure stepped forth, holding out her hand. "We are not here to disrupt your peace, good men. We only wish to pass through. Please let us be on our way."

"Like hell we will! Your brilliant jackass over there wants to pick a fight! Well, come on then!" The man charged at them, positioning his blade like a pole in a jousting tournament.

"Guess there's no helping it, huh. Men and their male bravado," The hooded figure sighed, shaking her head and deftly ducked a blade a few moments before it slashed over her head. With a speed almost inhuman, she was behind the man, planting a sharp kick to his back, making him fly into the dirt road with a groan. Hisagi aimed a kick to the man's head and he slumped against the road, still and unmoving.

The hooded figure turned to face the other night guard, who was holding his weapon but keeping a safe distance away. Obviously, this one was a lot more careful than the other, and was weighing his options hesitantly. He was outnumbered three to one. Two of the men were armed, but they weren't making any moves. The only one on the attack was the small hooded figure who was unarmed, but she just felled his partner with a kick executed with stunning speed and precision. Still, the pride and honor of the Kurosaki name now rested on his shoulders and as a man of that household, he could not step down from a challenge and let the name he stood for be tarnished or dishonored.

He ran towards the hooded figure at full speed, raising his weapon behind his head for a heavier swing… which went down into thin air. There was suddenly a light pressure on his shoulders and he looked up to see the hooded figure flying above him, using his shoulders to boost her swing as she propelled her herself forward. Her hood fell back slightly, and to his surprise, he saw the face of a young woman. He turned to face her, half in shock. He had not been instructed to kill the ladies. There was a sharp twist at his neck from behind, and his vision blackened before he even hit the ground.

"Brilliant, Ma'am," Hisagi smiled, looking down at the two men on the ground, satisfied with their revenge for the night. There was an ancient grudge between the two families, one where anger could only be satisfied by fountains of blood. He wasn't sure but he thought he heard the faint tinkle of a soft laugh coming from her. Behind them, Kira looked around nervously, seemingly afraid of something.

"Listen, do you hear that?" Kira turned towards a faint thudding, like that of a hundred footfalls. A deep bell sounded, ringing into the night air with an ominous and deathly foreboding.

"Quick! Into the alleyway," Hisagi yelled, but it was too late. They were surrounded on all sides by men wielding axes, clubs, metal chains and the like. Swords were drawn and the three backed together facing the incoming mob.

"Stay your weapons, soldiers!" A large man galloped forth on a black horse, riding through the mob as they cleared a path for him. He approached the fearful travellers and halted, looking down at them with utter distaste.

"You're Isshin Kurosaki, head of the Kurosaki household!" Kira gasped, stepping back slightly and looking up at the bearded man with large and terrified eyes.

"Well, aren't you the observant one," Kurosaki grunted, dismounting his horse and walking towards the three travellers. "Enemies of the peace, may I ask why you find it of such vital importance to disturb my beauty sleep at such an ungodly hour?" Isshin was taken aback that it was not the tall men who stepped forward to confront him, but a tiny hooded figure. Would the smallest one would be doing the negotiating?

"Ask your men to put their swords away, Kurosaki. We have no wish to fight."

"That would be very fine, but seeing as you have already downed two of my men, I am sorry to say that a fight is already under way. Draw your weapons and fight if you're men." Isshin declared, drawing his long sword and turning to face them, brandishing his weapon with a haunting gleam in his eyes. The mob cheered and spat crude insults at the trio, waving their weapons in the air.

"That is fortunate, for I am not a man." The figure pulled down her hood and Isshin took a step back. Kira and Hisagi stared at their mistress in shock. Her identity and her going out of the Kuchiki household at such an ungodly hour were supposed to be a secret! They had to pray no rumors would ever reach the Kuchikis, they would be fuming mad.

"Rukia Kuchiki!" Isshin exclaimed. The mob fell silent and instead broke into a series of confused murmurs. "What are you doing here?"

"My good man, I have no wish to fight, only to pass through your turf. Your dispute with my father is of no relation to me, and I have no desire to be involved otherwise. Please let us through." Rukia said quietly but steadily, not turning her gaze away from Isshin.

"Who started the fight? Speak, child. Were you here when it was started?" Isshin holstered his weapon, his expression now somewhat that of a father reprimanding a child for being naughty.

"It was my man that first drew his sword, but he lowered it after I instructed him to do so. It was one of your men who initiated the first attack."

"Very well, then, but let it be the last time I have to witness your disturbance in our streets." Isshin huffed and turned back to his men. "Gentlemen, you may return to your homes for now. Depart now or face me later." The men hurriedly shuffled back down the alleyways and disappeared.

"Still, I have to ask you," Isshin turned his attention back to the three people in front of him. "Did you see my son? Was he in the fight?"

"No, Sir. I have not seen your son." Rukia replied coolly. "Well, if you'll excuse us, we must be on our way. Farewell, Isshin. I hope we will not have to meet again under such circumstances." She gave him a half-hearted wave and strolled away, closely followed by her two companions who hurried after her. For one so petite, she travelled fast. Isshin stared after them for a while, and then turned back home. Her last words were meant both as a peace-maker and a threat. He chuckled a little to himself; that girl was going to be a force to reckon with if she took over as head of the family.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dearest readers, I'm very sorry for the one long year (well more than that, actually) it has taken for me to update this story. As stated in the previous chapter (written in May last year), I had written this particular chapter at the same time as the previous one, but thought it yet unfit to be published. However, seeing as how circumstances at the present moment disallow me from perfecting it or lengthening, I think I'll just publish it first. At the time I first wrote this one, I was obsessed with Romeo and Juliet. Quite unfortunately, I lack the one thing necessary to continue with this story: time._

_On another note, I have been exceedingly glad to receive your comments and thank you so very much for the follows! They make me very happy._

_ GStrawberryKiss: Your review made me more happy than you can imagine. Sorry my reply is coming over a year late, but I wanted to thank you so much for going out of your way to write an extended one. It has given me great motivation in my writing since then._

_ unknownkyitty: Thank you so much for your encouragement! It is greatly appreciated!_

_As a matter of fact, the document that this was on is saved on my old computer which isn't working anymore. Thankfully, the draft of it was saved in my email, and I just found it tonight. It was entitled "The Lonely Prince" which was, of course, inappropriate since Romeo was never a prince, so I changed it to "The Outpour from He Who is Heartbroken", namely because I think I'm funny. _

_I may choose to finish it or redo this chapter once my exams and other commitments are over. Until then, thank you for following Romeo Kurosaki and Juliet Kuchiki on their misadventures!_

Chapter Two- The Outpour From He Who is Heartbroken

"Hey! People who wander my house! Has anyone seen my son?" Isshin stood on top of a large staircase with his arms akimbo, yelling at the poor servants who scurried about frantically, pausing for a moment to see what their master wanted.

"Sir, I did happen to see your Son today." A clergyman stepped forward. "He was on the outskirts of the city, on an early morning walk, I think, but when I went towards him he hurried away. I figured he wanted to avoid me so I continued on my way. He did look awfully miserable, Sir, pardon my words."

"Rubbish! Are you sure that was him? My son is a bloody lazy ass who refuses to wake up! Why is he acting this way?" Isshin started to pace, in deep thought.

"I do not know, Sir. But if anyone did, it would be his personal maid, Sir." The clergyman answered hesitantly.

"Who?" Isshin looked puzzled.

"Tatsuki Arisawa, Sire." He looked slightly ashamed for having put his friend in a position.

"Great, send her into my office in five!" Isshin yelled, storming back up the stairs. The clergyman squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a silent apology to his poor friend.

"You wanted to see me, Chief?" A tall spiky-haired female stood in front of his desk, putting all her weight on her left leg so her hips were cocked to the side, as she lazily cracked the bubble gum in her mouth with an air of indifference. Isshin would normally have fired such people on the spot, but she was the only female that his son had agreed with to be his personal maid.

"Well, Miss Arisawa, it has come to my attention that my son has been acting a little… odd lately. Do you have any idea as to why this is the case?" Isshin folded his hands on the table, looking up innocently at the lady in front of him.

"Well, uh, I don't know if he wants me to tell you, but since you're his Pops," Her lips twisted into a half grin. "The young fellow's in love."

"In love…?" Isshin sat back in his chair and let out a low throaty laugh. "That fool; he gets me worried for nothing! Alright, now get out." He shooed her away.

Ichigo Kurosaki was feeling horrible, like someone had ripped his heart out and was having fun stabbing it repeatedly. He sighed for the fiftieth time that day, dragging his feet along as he wandered across the grassy fields. He wasn't sure where he was anymore; probably just along the outskirts of the town. He looked up at the rising sun forlornly. Hadn't he been out here all day? Time passes so slowly when you're sad. He sat down against a large oak tree, sighing heavily.

"Why are you so sad?" He jumped when he heard a voice coming from the other side of the tree.

"Who are you?" He demanded, but when he looked, there was no one there. He looked confused for a moment, then shrugged and sat back down.

"I asked you why you were sad," The voice came again, but he could not see whom the voice belonged to.

"Why am I sad? Well, it's because I don't have what I long for." He said miserably.

"You're in love," The voice put it simply, but somehow it shocked him.

"Yes, but she doesn't love me." He looked up at the sky, feeling as if he might cry. Still, talking about it made him feel a little better, at the very least.

"Love can be harsh," The voice agreed.

"I thought love was supposed to be blind; but it still makes you see what it wants you to see. It is such cruelty. Only fools fall in love, and there is nothing but a bitter sadness to be gained from it. Love can be such a contradiction- it is everything except what it is! This is the painful love I endure, though nobody sees fit to return my affection." He paused and then looked around again curiously. "Are you crying?"

"Perhaps," The voice replied after a short pause.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, suddenly feeling ashamed for wronging this saddened voice.

"I'm crying because you are sad," The voice replied.

"Don't cry, please. I'm already overburdened with sadness, if I were to take any more of it from you I think I might drown in it. Love is nothing but sadness, and it weighs down on my heart oh so terribly. It is a wise form of madness, a sweet to choke on. There are nothing but tears and sorrow to be gained from its treacherously deceitful waters. Well, I shall be off now; it was nice talking to you, whoever you are." He smiled slightly, looking straight ahead as if the person was standing in front of him.

"Wait a moment," The voice called out. "Who is the one you love so dearly?"

"She is the most beautiful thing the world ever beheld." He sighed deeply, tracing lines in the mud with a stick. "But she won't have me. She won't have anyone. She was sworn never to marry."

"Then take my advice and do not think about her any further; you can only ever bring yourself more heartache." The voice cautioned.

"Then teach me how to forget to think!" His voice was strained and almost desperate.

"Let your eyes wander into the beauty around you and you shall soon forget. All adolescents are like you, so easily attracted to the opposite gender, and then you thrust all your affections upon them and wonder why they are not returned," The voice chuckled.

"Well, that's the problem. Only she is beautiful in my eyes. You can't teach me how to forget her. Goodbye, stranger, I need to return home."

"I'll teach you to forget, or die owing you a favour." The voice from the branches of the tree was not heard by the young boy traversing across the grassy plain. A hooded figure jumped down from the branches and landed on earth with a soft thud, looking at a mop of orange hair blowing in the gentle breeze.

"Brother, I wish to take your daughter as my bride." Byakuya Kuchiki paused mid-stride and turned to look at the county, Renji Abarai, who was making the statement.

"I can only repeat what I've told you before. I cannot answer for her; only guide her in her actions. You have to ask her yourself." He answered quietly, looking at the white walls instead.

"Very well then, I shall declare my undying love the next time I lay my eyes upon her angelic features." He laughed confidently.

"Go ahead and try, I will give you my consent if she does. In fact, I'll invite you to a gathering I will be hosting tonight, and you may see her there if she so chooses. Perhaps there you will find other women better suited to your taste.'

"That is unlikely, Sir, but thank you for the offer. I will see you tonight, then."

"Hanatarou, invite the people on this list to the house tonight." Byakuya handed Hanatarou a slip of paper and the young boy rushed off clumsily, tripping over his robes in the process.

As Hanatarou ran along, he lamented and cursed his own stupidity. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! I forgot to mention to my noble Lord that I have no idea how to read! What will my Lord think of me? If only I wasn't such a disgrace to this household and it's glorified name. Oh, hello, what an odd ginger-haired man. I'll ask him!" 

Hanatarou approached the man, well, he was a boy, really. A boy with flaming orange hair and a worn, angular fae.

"Good day to you, sir! Pray, may you read this for me?" He bowed as low as he could.

Ichigo stopped himself before he tried to lament his woes to yet another stranger. He was still slightly perturbed by the encounter he had at the tree. But with whom? Still, it did make him feel better. "Yes, I can. Hand it over. Oh, what's this? _A ball?"_


End file.
